“Awww,” Tamara said. “I love that. I’m so happy our great plan worked.”
“Thank you all,” he said, raising his glass to everyone.
Juliet took a sip of her champagne and set down the glass. “I have a happy memory to put into the soup. A few weeks before my daughter passed away, it was her third birthday, and her father and I threw her a party, just the three of us, and it was the most complete day of my life. We were in the park with a duck pond by our house, and we were throwing bits of bread at the ducks and she was laughing.” A smile lit her face for a moment, but then tears filled her eyes. “I can remember being so thankful. Now that she’s gone I don’t know how to go forward without her. My life was complete with her; how can it ever be without her?”
“Does it help to remember that day at the duck pond, when she was laughing? Or does it just make your sad?” Mia asked.
“Both,” Juliet said.
Mia bit her lower lip. “Then maybe that’s how. By remembering the happy and the sad. Seriously, that’s how I deal with my mother being gone. A few days ago, one of Madeline’s friends said she’d heard my mother abandoned me. Can you believe she used that word? First of all, she didn’t abandon me, she just moved across the country. If she lived closer, I’d see her all the time. But she lives half the time in Europe. Anyway, sometimes when I really want her, when I wish she was here, I think that maybe she did abandon me and I get really upset. But then I’ll try and think about something that makes me think good thoughts about her, and I feel better. That’s what my dad told me was a good coping mecha-something.”
“Mechanism,” Holly said. “A coping mechanism.”
“Smart man,” Simon added.
And smart girl, Holly thought, her heart going out to Mia.
“Yes,” Juliet added. “That is smart. Thank you, Mia. I don’t want to forget Evie. So I can’t not think of her. But when I do think of her, I just get so overwhelmed by missing her.”
“Doesn’t your husband make you feel better?” Mia asked, and everyone turned to stare at Juliet, curious to know what their story was.
“He tried, but I guess everyone grieves differently. Or at least, that’s what the shrinks said. I found it hard to be comforted by him when he wasn’t grieving the same way I was. And he was getting tired of being accused of not caring that Evie was gone.”
Holly watched Juliet’s face crumple. “Oh, Juliet.”
Juliet sniffled. “I was thinking earlier today about when I was your age, Mia, or a little younger, and taking boats out on the Blue Crab Bay with Holly and talking about our futures, how I’d become a marine biologist and marry a whale specialist, and Holly would become a famous playwright and marry her leading actor. And now here I am, everything so …” She shrugged her slight shoulders and stared at the floor.
“Did you marry a whale specialist?” Tamara asked.
“He’s an attorney like I am.” She smiled. “I never thought I’d become a lawyer. Or marry one.”
“Do you miss him?” Mia asked. “Since he’s … where? In Chicago?”
“Sometimes I do, but sometimes I just want to stay here by myself.”
“I think that’s how my mother feels,” Mia said. “Like she misses me, but she wants to be in France and California with René. That’s my stepfather. I’ve only met him twice. Isn’t that insane?”
“Why does life get so complicated?” Tamara asked.
“Seriously,” Mia said.
Five glasses raised in the air.
Since that coming Friday was Mia’s birthday and Saturday the dance, which Liam was chaperoning, they’d chosen Thursday for their date. Liam had called earlier and asked her to meet him in his backyard at six o’clock—and to wear something warm.
Since they’d agreed on a no-food date, it couldn’t be a picnic. Staring up at the stars? Night bird hunting?
She’d spent a half hour going through her closet and her too-many pairs of jeans, discarding any that would require pointy high heels, and chose a comfortable pair that managed to look both semi-sexy and worthy of a hike in the Maine woods. She went through her shirts and sweaters and came up with a white cotton camisole with a slightly lacy edge, a thin heathered V-neck sweater that both hid and clung, and her favorite heavy tie-wrap cardigan. Her comfy brown cowboy boots, her grandmother’s Po River–stones necklace, and the tiniest dab of one of Camilla’s perfumes, and she was ready.
She glanced into the floor mirror in the corner of her bedroom. She hardly looked like the woman in the photograph in the Gellers’ house. Or Jodie. Liam clearly liked the sophisticated type who wore lipstick. But Holly was a jeans and sweater girl who might slick on some scented lip balm. And since he’d leaned in for a kiss the other day, he had to be attracted to her on some level. Whatever, as Mia would say. She was who she was.
And besides, he was taking her on a date involving a backyard and the need for warm clothes.
She took a deep breath and left her house, walking down the path to the water. It was so peaceful and quiet, the only sounds the occasional swoop of a seagull or a child’s voice from a backyard. At Liam’s house, she headed to the backyard, where she found him standing on the little square dock, wearing that sexy black leather jacket, his hands in his pockets, the breeze blowing his hair.
He waved her over, and as she got closer, she saw the rowboat docked next to him had two cushions on the seats, and the metal holders attached to each side, near the oars, held a bouquet of wildflowers in one and a bottle of wine and two glasses in the other. An old-school boom box was set at the bow, softly playing what sounded like blues jazz.
All the tension in her shoulders slid out at the perfect simplicity of it, the innocent romance of it all. The last time someone had taken her out on a rowboat she’d been a gawky thirteen-year-old with braces at summer camp, and the boy, who she’d had a big crush on, had actually fallen in the water because he’d freaked out when he saw a snake.
“Hey,” he said. “You look great.”
She smiled and accepted his hand up onto the dock, then down into the boat. “I love this.”
His hand was so warm. “I had a feeling you would.”
She liked that he’d planned this with her in mind. She’d spent the past two years going to events and parties at which people stood around talking about futures and securities and stock indexes. Since there weren’t many events and parties for dog walkers and waitresses, Holly had been free to attend all of John’s events, and she’d been glad to, thinking she’d learn something by osmosis and that eventually she’d be able to make small talk about the Dow Jones, something she still didn’t understand. “You shouldn’t try to talk about what you know nothing about,” John had once whispered harshly into her ear when she’d embarrassed him by trying to join a conversation in which she’d stood by his side like an idiot for twenty minutes. She’d stayed too long at the party—literally and figuratively speaking.
Liam sat across from her and took up the oars, rowing out toward the middle of the bay yet staying in line with his house. The bay at this end was surrounded by huge oaks and evergreens and a rocky cliff on both sides, as private as if the stretch of water belonged to him.
“This is so beautiful and peaceful,” she said, listening to the hum of cicadas and crickets, the moon above an almost perfect crescent.
“I row out here a lot for that reason. I take Mia out when I need to talk to her without her being able to escape, but of course once she was so mad at me that she jumped right in the bay, out here in the middle too.”
“I’m crazy about that girl,” Holly said before she could stop herself. It wasn’t the thing to say to “that girl’s” father while she was on a date with him. It sounded so … Jodie fake. But it was true, she realized. She was crazy about Mia.
“Me too. And I’m worried about her. She’s so sure her mother’s coming Friday for her birthday, and who knows if she will or not? I’ve emailed Veronica twice to ask if she’s coming and even called her c
hateau or whatever she lives in in France, and she doesn’t respond. Mia’s texted her and emailed her too—three times and same thing. No response.” He shook his head and stared out at the water.
“Is this typical?”
“Unfortunately.”
Holly couldn’t imagine having a child and being so out of touch, out of the child’s life, living in another universe, basically. And not responding to emails and texts.
“And so instead of her birthday being exciting for her, she’ll be a wreck all day at school on Friday, half-expecting her mother to show up during English or history or lunch with a completely inappropriate and overly expensive present.”
“Would she do that?”
He shrugged, then started rowing again, the movement of his muscles almost mesmerizing Holly. “She’s capable of anything. And she likes grandiose gestures.”
“And if her mother doesn’t come?” Holly said. “How upset will Mia get?”
“She’ll be a wreck for a good couple of weeks. And then she’ll talk herself into a rationalization that she can live with, that makes her feel better, and that makes her mother some kind of mythical creature instead of a neglectful parent.”
“That must be so hard on both of you,” she said, wishing she had something more insightful to say. But she didn’t understand the situation at all. How did a mother just walk away from her child like that? Calling every now and then? Sending expensive gifts as though it made up for her presence, her love?
“It’s only hard on me because I can’t do anything about it. I can’t make her mother act like a mother. I can’t give her that.”
“But you’re a great dad,” she said.
“I hope so. Sometimes I feel like I don’t know what the hell I’m doing. Especially now that she’s turning twelve and everything’s changing. Everything—her body, her interests, our relationship. A few months ago I was in the drugstore picking up toothpaste and shaving cream, and I realized there were some items Mia would need soon, and there would be no one but me to get them for her, so I bravely marched into the aisle marked ‘feminine’ and couldn’t even handle standing in front of the hundreds of boxes of tampons. I wouldn’t have known what to get even if I wasn’t embarrassed about being there.”
Holly smiled. “Did you buy the wrong thing or something?”
“I got overwhelmed and bolted. And so I just asked Jodie to pick up the basic necessities that a girl going through puberty would need. She came back with two big shopping bags.”
“Of what?”
“I don’t know—a lot of brightly colored boxes. Pink deodorant. Mouthwash. Shaving cream in pink canisters. Pink razors. A couple of things I had no idea what they were.”
Holly laughed. “It’s very clear that you deeply love your daughter and that you’re devoted to her. You’re doing just fine.”
Liam slowed the boat and slid over on his seat. “Come row with me?”
She smiled and set her cushion next to his, taking the left oar. They attempted to row together, but it took a while to get their motions in sync.
“Why don’t we drift for a while and open the wine,” he said, reaching for the bottle and a corkscrew.
She held out the glasses and he poured each glass half-full with the red wine. “Thank you. This is really nice.” And nice was just the word.
“I know I said this would be a foodless date, but I couldn’t resist getting some good French bread and my favorite cheese.” He slid a small cooler from the stern, taking out the crusty loaf and setting the cheese and a tiny knife on a small wooden cutting board.
“What didn’t you think of?” Holly asked, her heart pinging with how touched she was. This entire date was romance at its sweetest and purest. A boat. The water. A good-looking man whom she was dying to kiss. Good red wine, a hunk of Gouda, and a loaf of crusty bread.
“I didn’t think of how I would attempt to make out with you without knocking the oars into the water.”
She laughed. “Actually, isn’t that the classic smooth move? The guy ‘accidentally’ lets the oars slip into the water so the woman is his captive?”
Liam held her gaze, his handsome face so close to hers on the wooden seat, and then he leaned forward and kissed her, soft and warm on the lips, letting his lips linger on hers before pulling back to look at her—and looking at her like she was beautiful. He kissed her again, full and deep, his hand reaching up to pull her closer against him.
“Your hair smells like flowers,” he whispered into it.
“Not garlic or Bolognese sauce?”
He laughed. “Flowers. And that perfume is driving me crazy.”
She might have whispered “good,” because he shifted her onto his lap so that she was straddling him, and they were kissing so passionately she was surprised the boat didn’t tip over.
Fourteen
Holly felt like she was floating the next morning. She woke up smiling, all because of a perfect date on a rowboat under the stars, quite possibly her favorite date of all time. Even if it ended way too soon. The wind had started to blow and it had been nearing eight thirty, when Liam expected Mia home from a hockey game at her school, and so they’d rowed back together, and Liam had walked her home, the beagles scampering ahead of them. And on her porch he kissed her again, the kiss as sweet as it was passionate, and Holly knew that night had been the start of something.
She came downstairs all lazy and happy in her robe and noticed something slipped under the door, another card in Mia’s strawberry-scented stationery. But this was in Liam’s handwriting.
Holly,
Thank you for an amazing date. Can’t wait to do it again. And again. And again.
Liam
She grinned and pressed it against her chest, then tucked it in her robe’s pocket and floated into the kitchen, where she gave Antonio an extra liver snap. She couldn’t shake her goofy smile all day, even when she realized she’d forgotten the dry white wine for the Bolognese sauce, which she’d only discovered when she’d tasted it after wishing for even just one more perfect date with Liam. She’d made stupid, my-head-is-in-the-clouds mistakes all day, but didn’t mind a bit. And she had to admit that she liked that she was able to tell she’d forgotten the wine.
Though earlier in the week Holly had offered to take Mia out for lattes and treats at the bakery after school for her birthday, Mia had said no, she didn’t want to miss her mother in case she came to pick her up at the house. So at four o’clock that afternoon, Holly wrapped up Mia’s gift (her grandmother had a closet devoted to various wrapping paper, bows, and cards for all occasions), pretty dangling earrings with tiny purple beads to match her Fall Ball dress, and headed to the Gellers’ house.
Halfway down, she could hear someone running toward her, and then Mia’s excited voice calling, “Mom?” And then there was Mia, out of breath, the disappointment on her face that it was “just Holly” heartbreaking.
“Oh,” Mia said, the excited gleam in her eyes dulling. “I thought you were my mother.”
“So she’s coming this afternoon? That’s wonderful!”
“Well, I don’t know for sure. I haven’t heard from her. But I assume she is. She probably wanted to wait till after the school day. You know how parents can be about school. I’m sure she’ll just come straight here from the airport any minute now.”
Holly hoped so. Really hoped so. Her mother coming for her birthday clearly meant so much to Mia. And Holly could certainly understand why. If there was any special day, for her mother to show that she actually did care, this was it.
“Did you see anyone on Blue Crab Boulevard looking for the turnoff to this road?” Mia asked, straining her neck to see around the bend in the road where the trees obscured the view of the path. “Maybe my mother is having trouble finding it?”
“It’s pretty well marked,” Holly said gently. “And she could ask anyone in town. She’ll find the road no problem.” If she was coming. “Why don’t we head back to the house?”
&nbs
p; Mia searched the road again, but there was nothing but the occasional squirrel and bird. Her face fell and she trudged up the porch steps and sat down, wrapping her arms around herself.
“Want to go inside?” Holly asked. “It’s getting pretty cold.”
“No, I’m okay. I’m just so excited about my mom coming. I mean, I’m sure she’ll come. It’s my birthday.” She zipped her hoodie up to her chin. “And the mail came and there was no birthday card from her, so that must mean she’s planning to be here. There’s no way she wouldn’t send a card and not come in person, right?”
Oh, hell. Holly hoped not.
“Well, here,” Holly said, handing her the gift as she sat down beside her. “Happy birthday, sweetie.”
Mia brightened. “Wow, thanks.” She undid the ribbon, ripped away the wrapping paper, and opened the box. “Oh, my God, Holly, these are gorgeous! She held up the pretty earrings in the light. “And they’ll match my dress perfectly. Thank you so much,” she added, leaning over and hugging Holly. “I want to wear them right now, but I feel like I should save them for the dance.”
Holly smiled. “I totally agree. And you’re welcome. I can’t wait to see pictures of you in your dress—with your cute date.”
Mia’s blueberry-colored eyes twinkled. “Me too. I’m so excited. Just one more day.”
“So tell me more about this cute Daniel Dressler,” Holly said, and they sat there for another hour, talking, glancing up at every sound, but by five o’clock Mia’s mother hadn’t arrived. At five thirty, an hour and a half of sitting outside, a car came down the path and Mia jumped up and ran toward it, but it was the navy SVU. Just Dad.
Mia burst into tears. She stood there, tears running down her cheeks as Liam got out of his car. “She’s still not here, Dad. Is she going to come? Did she leave you a message?”
Liam’s expression basically said Oh, shit. “I’m really sorry, honey, she hasn’t left any messages for me. I did call her and email her a few times, and I tried again this morning, but I haven’t heard from her.”
The Love Goddess’ Cooking School Page 16